


Damned

by Titti



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-08-18
Updated: 2005-08-18
Packaged: 2017-11-28 13:34:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/674966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Titti/pseuds/Titti
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sheppard wants to know why he needed to make it an order</p>
            </blockquote>





	Damned

**Author's Note:**

> D/s theme

Ronan's POV

I am lying on my bed, reading one of the many books that Dr. Weir has given me just this morning. I merely asked what a 'Cheewie' was. In answer, she gave me a smile, a lecture about something called movies and Star Wars that were not really wars, and more books than I cared to read about Earth culture.

I am only at page ten, and am already bored out of my mind. It isn't that I don't like to learn, but my learning comes from doing, not a book. Unfortunately, Doctor Beckett decided that my healing leg needs rest and I'm not allowed any physical activity for the moment.

I don't have many friends on the base. In fact, I have none. The only people who talk to me are the members of Sheppard's team. Teyla respects me, I can see that, but it isn't friendship. The scientist, McKay, probably thinks that I'm stupid. In fact, he probably thinks that everyone is stupid. Part of my new job is to keep him alive on missions, but that doesn't mean I have to listen to him longer than it's necessary.

Sheppard is a mystery as well. He doesn't act like he's in charge. He doesn't even act like he wants to be in charge, but there are moments, when I can see why he is. He can lead with a soft touch, but he's not afraid to use the iron fist if it becomes necessary. That part of him attracts me more than it should, it calls to a part of me that has been hidden for too long.

It is no good to think about Sheppard, to imagine things that will not happen. With a sigh, I go back to the book, when I hear the buzzer at the door. It's a respite from the boredom. I can't stop from smiling when I see who it is. "Sheppard."

"Ronan." Sheppard sounds pleasant, like a friend dropping by for a visit, not like my commanding officer. I've never managed to sound so chipper even before my seven years running. "Can I come in?" he asks me.

"It is your base." I tell him, while I sit up, resting my back against the headboard. I might like the man, but I'm not ready to lie down and be at such tactical disadvantage.

"It's your room, and you are a member of my team, not a prisoner. I'll ask again; can I come in?"

I nod, but he still confuses me. Since when does a commanding officer ask for permission from his subordinates? This Earth military must be very different from my military.

Sheppard sits at the edge of the bed, near the footboard, and we are as far as we can be, while being in the same bed. He rests his elbows on his knees, and turns his head to stare at me.

The silence makes me uncomfortable. Have I done something wrong? Will he ask me to leave? Am I supposed to speak? I've always thought that silence is the best answer for most situations, but these humans like to talk, almost expect you to talk even when there is no reason for words. "Sheppard?" I finally ask.

"Do you wanna tell me what that was all about?"

I mentally sigh, reliving the discussion we had on Olesia. I should never speak when tied up and with a collar around my neck. I knew I had said too much or maybe just the wrong thing; Sheppard had looked at me strangely. However, I don't have to let him know that I understand what he is asking. Sometimes, when you cannot stay silent, playing stupid works just as well. "'That' what?"

"That! That on that planet. That making me give you an order before you would shut the hell up. That..." Sheppard waves his hand in my direction, like he's trying to make me understand without words. I do understand, but I won't tell him. "That face you made."

I shrug. "You want me to do what you say, it needs to be an order. If not, I will do what I think it is right."

"And risking all our lives so you can prove you're this tough guy is right?"

I close the book, and stare at him for a moment. Are humans so different? Will they ever understand me? Probably not, and as a general rule, it doesn't bother me. However, I need this human to understand; I need Sheppard to know what I need. With a sigh, I slide down the bed and sit next to Sheppard.

Our knees touch, and I can feel the heat radiating from him. It's been too long since I've felt the warmth that comes from another being. I miss it, I miss it so much that I shift closer, until our arms are touching as well. I know it's dangerous and brainless, but I can't resist, especially when he's looking at me so earnestly, like he truly wants to understand. "No, but defending my honor is," I explain, trying to focus on his question, but the disappointment on his face is like a punch to the stomach. "Is it that not your way?"

"It is, but..." John pats my knee, like he wants to reassure me. "We're a team. Our first priority is to protect each other and Atlantis. Proving that we can kick ass... well, it's not always possible. Anyway..." He stands up. I cross my hands in front of me to fight the urge to grab him. "I'm sure it was a misunderstanding, different culture and all that. Just make sure I don't have to give you that kind of order again," he says as he walks to the door.

I'm not ready to lose the warmth, but more importantly I don't want to lose the possibility to make Sheppard understand. "What if I do not mind?" I ask before I can stop myself.

John stops and turns. He cocks his head, just like I've seen him do a hundred times since arriving to Atlantis. A man in charge, a leader like him, should not look so naive. "People don't like orders."

I limp my way through the room, trying to ignore the pain in my right leg, and stand before him, trying to balance my weight to minimize the hurt. He immediately puts his hand on my elbow offering support. "Hey, careful. I thought Carson wanted you to rest."

I raise a shoulder, dismissing his objection. "I don't mind pain. I don't mind orders either... from the right person."

His hand drops away like he's been burned. I'm afraid that I've said too much, but it's easier to know than to spend my time wondering about him and the possibility that there could be more between us.

"Look, Ronan, I don't know how your military did things on your planet... But it's not the way it works here, okay?"

I nod again. "Okay." It occurs to me that he talks a lot, but rarely says anything precise. Are we even saying the same things? "I was not talking about the military," I throw out, hoping that this clarifies matters, but he looks even more confused than before. Gods above, these humans really need words to explain things.

"I'm not sure what you're telling-"

I stop him the only way I know how: I press my lips against his. I barely have time to taste him that a hand gripping my hair at the nape of my head pulls me back, and my cock becomes rock hard from the pain. I could spin him around, and break his arm in no time, but instead I melt against him, increasing the pull on my hair.

"What are you doing?" he growls. If it's meant to stop me, it doesn't succeed. If anything, I'm even harder.

"I will do whatever you wish." The words are so natural, even after all this time. I hope he understands; I know he does. Regardless of cultures, I cannot imagine a planet where they don't understand about domination and submission. They are two traits that I have encountered in all cultures I have known, even if they were not always associated with sex or love.

He slowly releases the grip on my hair, and puts his hands in his pockets, like he's afraid of what he would do if his hands were free to move. "Is this what your CO required?"

I think back at my last CO, with his adherence to the rules, the perfect wife, his three children, his praying to the Gods twice a day, and smile. "No, not my CO." No, it was someone else. My lover, my master, a man with whom I spent five years before I was captured, but I don't tell Sheppard all of this. I might be attracted to him, but he hasn't proven himself worthy of this information yet.

Sheppard rubs a hand over his face. "But now you've decided that you want to take orders from me. Besides the obvious fact that, you know, the Air Force doesn't take kindly to this type of relationships..." he pauses, waiting for something, although I'm not sure what, and I stay silent. "Look, you don't even know me. You're been on the run for so long, you don't really want to start doing what I say."

"I do, and I can prove it to you." I waste no time, going to my knees, lowering my eyes as I do so. I grind my teeth, but I refuse to show the pain I feel from my leg.

"Get up, now!" My cock jumps at the tone he uses, that tone that tells you he means business, the one that can even shut McKay up.

I don't know what he has in mind, if anything, but I don't let him repeat the order. I get up as quickly as my leg will allow. I feel his hand on my arm, offering support once more, and I look up at him, and smile in gratitude, but I freeze when I see his face.

The look of worry and exasperation is gone, replaced by controlled desire. I know what it looks because I've seen it on my former Master plenty of times: the wide pupils, the heavier breathing, the gentle touch while his fingers clench at random, like he wants to grip my arm until I can't move anymore, not that I'm thinking of going anywhere.

"I said up," he repeats. I guess I'm not moving as fast as he'd like. I try faster, refusing to acknowledge the pain that shoots up my leg. "Hey, hey, don't hurt yourself." He helps me until I'm again towering over him, and yet I'm the one with my eyes to the floor.

"You don't know what you're asking," he mumbles. "Forget dishonorable discharge, Elizabeth will roast me alive, and my men...God, that's..." Sheppard is pacing while talking to himself. I stay silent. As much as I want this, I can't make the decision for him. I can only hope that I don't disappoint him if he does decide to take me on.

He stops in front of me. He's so close that I can feel his breath on my skin. "And you shouldn't be standing. Go back to bed."

That voice again, calm and forceful at the same time, and I'd be willing to step in front of a bullet for that voice. I answer the only way I can, "Yes, Sir."

I turn slowly. I don't want him to get upset about my leg again. Before I can take a step, his hand finds my arm again. "On the other hand..."

My head snaps up, and my eyes are on him again. "Yes?" I ask hopeful.

He gives me that lopsided smile of his. "You don't waste any words, do you? And don't worry, that was a rhetorical question. The real question is do you understand that I don't know what I'm doing?"

It doesn't matter, because I'm not planning on fighting him. In another place, another lifetime, I would have made him work for my submission, but right now I need this more than I can explain. It has been sneaking up on me slowly, like a traitorous beast waiting for the most opportune moment to strike. As each need - hunger, rest, warmth - has been sated, this remains unsatisfied, growing gradually. Besides, he knows what he's doing better than he's willing to admit. Sheppard can get anyone to do what he wants, whether with an order or with a smile. Few men can do that. "I trust you."

"At least one of us does," he says sarcastically, but it strikes me that the man has more facially expression than any man I've known. It's part of his attraction, it makes you stare at him, watching for each new expression in the hope that you can predict what he'll do next. Maybe I should suggest that threatening and disappointed are the only two expressions a CO really needs.

"Take off your clothes, and get on that bed," he says with a wicked smile that promises dark pleasures.

I guess I'll keep my suggestions for myself.

I take off my black vest easily enough, but things get trickier when I get to my pants. I unbutton and push them down to my thighs, revealing my erection, not that it bothers me, or at least it usually doesn't, but I can feel Sheppard's eyes on me. I meet his gaze, and I feel on fire.

He's studying me, analyzing me. I know I'm good looking, the many stares I get from men and women tell me that, but this is different. There is that little doubt that always crops into my mind in situations like this: am I worthy?

"Are you waiting for an invitation?" His tone is light, but I can hear the annoyance, or maybe I'm just imaging it, because someone else would be annoyed at catching me daydreaming for a second time.

I sit on the bed and pull the pants further down. I finally kick them off with my good leg. It was luck that I was already barefooted, because there would be no way that I could manage my boots with any grace.

His eyes have never faltered, like he's memorizing every move I make, but mostly they are on my face, zooming in on my eyes. I wonder what he sees there. "Lie down," he says after a moment. "Hands over your head, and grab the headboard."

I do as he says. He hasn't said anything about my legs, so I keep them almost closed. I'm not ready to expose myself more than I have to. I lower my eyes, but still watch him from under my eyelashes.

I wait for him to take his clothes off, but it doesn't happen. Instead, he walks around my room, looking at the few personal objects that I've salvaged through the years. His hand glides over my possession, and I bite back the moan that threatens to escape at the thought of his hands on my body.

He stops in front of the dresser, and picks up the collar that is there. He approaches me, still fondling the thin strip of leather, and stops at the side of the bed. "You've kept this. Why?"

"Collars have special meanings," I inform him.

He nods, like he agrees with me; I doubt he does. "And what meaning does this collar have?"

"It was our first mission together." That's not a lie, but not the actual truth.

Not many people have the courage to give me an order; even my former CO gave me orders only when surrounded by people and with the threat of military prison hanging over my head. Sheppard gave the order even while being tied up, and he expect me to obey, simply because he said so. This collar reminds me of that moment, the instant in which I knew beyond a doubt that I wanted him to dom me, the moment he had won me without even knowing or trying.

An amused smile appears on his face. "Lying? Tsk, tsk, you're even worse at it than Rodney, but since you won't tell me, maybe I should guess." He holds the collar from one hand and lets it dangle over my chest, lowering until the buckle touches my nipple. It's cold and I suck my breath. He stops for a moment, before letting the cold metal slide over my nipple again. This time I'm prepared and I don't react.

"Look at me." I raise my eyes, realizing that I wasn't showing respect, but I was protecting myself from his scrutinizing glare. "Better. Now, about this collar... you were pretty insistent that I make it an order. Were you thinking about this even then? I bet you were."

As he speaks, he moves the collar across my chest, letting the leather slide over my skin. He lingers on my other nipple, before moving down again.

"All tied up, and at the mercy of those criminals, but you weren't thinking of them. You were imagining that you were at my mercy, weren't you?"

"Yes," I hiss. My cock twitches at his words while images of all the things he could do to me pass in my mind. How can he know me so well? How can he be so good at evoking such responses while professing ignorance?

"You'd like for me to tie you up, but I won't, and you'll keep your hands where they are because I've told you to."

Bastard! Does he know how much harder that is? How easy it would be to lose myself in the binding? Now, he has my attention as well as my submission.

"Big guy like you... people would be shocked if they saw you like this. If they knew what you really want." He flickers his wrist, swinging the collar between my legs. The buckle hits my inner thigh without much strength, but my body tenses in anticipation. My heartbeat speeds up, waiting for what he'll do next, dreading it and craving it at the same time.

He moves the collar between his fingers, and then the leather slides against my cock, making me gasp. I half expect him to hit me with it; instead, I feel his hand on my sac. He fondles it, rolls the balls in his hand, squeezing them. His thumb presses between them, separating them. It would be so easy to close my eyes, hide the desire building inside me, but I can't; he won't let me. His eyes are always on me, stripping away any defence I might have.

He replaces his thumb with the collar, as he wraps the leather around one ball, then the next, using a figure eight, but before securing the two ends together, he wraps it twice around my cock. When he's done, he slides his hand over my cock, forcing my foreskin over the head. My cock is so hard that it aches. He smiles when I whimper, but he releases my erection. He runs a finger over my cock, stopping on the leather. "In case you were thinking you were coming any time soon."

"I was not." I truly wasn't, but the fact that he has taken that eventuality into account says more about him than me. He isn't as innocent as he'd like me to believe. It also warns me that he might be more resourceful that I suspected.

"Put your hands down."

While I do so, I try to reach for him, mostly out of curiosity. He grabs my hand and pushes it down, against the mattress and near my hip.

"You touch me when I tell you," he warns me with steel in his voice. If this is his idea of not being good, I'd be dead if he were any better.

He straddles me, trapping my arms between his legs. His ass brushes against my cock, and the coarse fabric of his uniform feels like sandpaper against the swollen head of my dick. I thought it was by chance, but the way he moves quickly corrects my impression.

"You tolerate more pain than most. Is it you or your entire race?" he asks while his fingers steadily press on my nipples, sending jolts of pleasure through my body. The pain doesn't arrive until he frees them, and rubs on them.

"Many on my planet are like me, but not all." I fight to keep my voice steady as I answer, and I'm proud of the result.

He nods satisfied before his hands move over my body. He covers every part of my torso. His touch varies from gentle to painful with everything in between. His fingertips tease my skin before his fingernails rake over my flesh, leaving red streaks. Each new sensation reminds me of my neglected cock, straining against its leather binging. I twist my hips, trying to achieve some contact. The roughness of his clothes is painful, but better than empty air.

He doesn't tell me to stop; in fact, he doesn't say anything, but shifts forward; his fingers wrap around my neck. I take a deep breath, awaiting the tightening of his grip, but it never comes. Instead, he rubs his thumb over my tattoo. I expect him to ask about it, but he doesn't.

"High tolerance to pain, no fear. That's why that order was so important." He taps my forehead with two fingers. "It's all in here with you."

That's when I finally understand. He's been studying me, learning like a predator that watches his would-be prey.

~*~*~*~

John's POV

I see the change in his eyes. I've seen it before in the Marines serving under my command on Atlantis. They see me as too relaxed, not strict enough, but when they see the change, then they learn. Ronan is learning, and he's finally taking me seriously, which is good, because I'm not sure I believe in myself when it comes to this.

I wasn't lying when I told him I didn't know what I was doing. Sure, I've fucked guys in the past. I've also experimented: a tie here, a cock ring there, but I've never tried anything heavy.

I'm lucky that what turns him on are not floggers and whips (not that I have any), but mental games. I might not have been into kinks, but my entire military career has been a mind fuck. You convince yourself that you have no fear; you pump yourself until you believe that you're good enough for the job on hand; you scare and awe and blind people into thinking that you can lead them. Hell, I've spent the past year convincing everyone that I could keep Atlantis safe. In comparison this is a piece of cake.

He wants commanding. I can do that!

I lean more, pressing my erection against his stomach, before crashing our lips together. He opens up without complains, and I stick my tongue down his throat. I take my time, mapping every part of his mouth, before I start playing with his lips, liking them, biting them, and then he whimpers. A bona fide whimper!

I have to fight to keep the smugness out of my face, no point in letting him know how surprised I am from his reaction. "Since you don't like to use your mouth for talking, we should use it for something different." I go on my knees, opening my pants, while I keep his arms trapped between my legs. I push the flaps open, and slide my hand over my boxers. I watch him lick his lips, and fuck if it isn't the most erotic thing I've seen in a long time. Keeping my face steady, I ask, "Is this what you want?"

"Yes," he growls.

"Well, you'll have to ask for it, beg for it, convince me that you really want it." I can't believe I've just said that. From the flicker in his eyes, he's surprised as well.

He stares at me, and I'd love to know what's going through his mind at this very instant. I think it was easier for him to submit when he thought I didn't know what I was doing. My inexperience gave him some control, and now even that mental safety is gone. On the other hand, I can't blame him for hesitating. If I were him, my answer would be a heart-felt 'fuck you', but he doesn't say that. "I want to suck your cock."

I grin. "Close, but no cigar." He looks at me confused. I guess some colloquialisms are puzzling. However, I don't clarify myself. Instead I carefully guide my shaft between the slit of my boxers. Still on my knees, I crawl forward and rub the red head of my cock over his lips. "Try again."

He says something in a strange language, before glaring at me. Oh hell, I guess he's finally come to his senses and we can put a stop to this insanity. I should just get up and leave. I've overstepped so many boundaries already, that a dishonorable discharge is the least of my worries.

Intellectually I know I shouldn't even have started this. It's wrong on so many levels, yet the power of domination is intoxicating. This isn't like commanding a base. This is different, personal. Ronan doesn't submit because of rank, but because he trusts *me* to give him what he needs. God, how can anyone say no to that. So I don't leave. I damn myself even further. "You have five seconds to convince me to let you suck my cock or I'm going to jerk off right in front of you, and then leave. One...two..."

"Please." There it is, a mere whisper, but I know I've got him now.

"What? I didn't hear that." His licks his lips again, and fuck, his tongue brushes against my dick. I'm close to begging as well.

"Please... please let me suck you off... please, Sir."

Good god, I swear my cock salutes at that word, but I merely smile. "See, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

He looks like he wants to kill me; he could probably do it easily, but the glare is soon replaced by something else: need and desire.

"Open up."

He does as I tell him, covering his teeth with his lips in the process. I guide my cock into his mouth, sliding it past his lips; the underside glides against his tongue as I push in, and it feels like heaven.

The angle is awkward and I shift my weight, resting my hands against the wall. As I move, my dick dives in deeper. He makes a chocking sound before my cock is squeezed by his throat. God, it feels unbelievable.

It's a shame I can't stay like this forever, but I begin to rock my hips. The strangled sounds he makes are like a drug pumping through my veins. My heartbeat quickens, and so do my movements. The rocking becomes more intense, pushing my cock in until I hit the back of his throat. When I see that he can take it, I start fucking his mouth in earnest. His throat will be raw and aching later, but he lies there. For me. The feeling of power is intoxicating, more powerful than the most expensive liquor.

I look down; he has tears in his eyes, but he doesn't protest, doesn't move. He accepts what I decide to give him. Did I mention I'm going to hell for this? Of course, I am, but I plan to enjoy the road that leads there. I lower one hand, and pull on his dreadlocks. He moans in pain, but I cut it off when I shove my dick inside his mouth, and then I'm coming, shooting down his throat. I feel the back of his throat closing around me as he swallows everything I've got. I wait until the first sign of pain sneaks up on me, before I pull out and sit on his chest.

Coming down from the high is like a landing with a burning engine, you brace yourself for the eventual crash, but you're still surprised by the shakes and bumps. I rest my head against the cool wall, waiting until my breath returns to normal. When it does, I slide down, covering him with my body. I make sure to press my leg against his erection. The abrasive material of my uniform must be heaven and hell at the same time, if the sounds he's making are any indication.

I rub his lips with my fingers, and he lets out a breath that sounds suspiciously like a moan. I realize that I want more, I want to hear the cries of pain, the gasps of pleasure; I crave to see this stoic man break under my hands and orders. "I could leave you like this. You know that?"

He closes his eyes, and stops breathing for a moment, before sighing. He slowly opens his lids, and stares at me. "I know."

It should be enough, but it's not. I want no doubt in his mind of who is in charge here. "If I told you, you weren't allowed to get off..."

"I'd do what you wish." He bites his lip. A beat, and then, "Please, I need... let me...please..." He stops just as suddenly as he started, and there is another moment of silence. "I will obey what you say," he ends with conviction that doesn't reach his face.

I get up without a word. I button my pants, before moving away from the bed. I hear the noise as he shifts on the bed, and then a resigned sigh. I turn my head, glaring at him. "Did I tell you to move?"

Ronan freezes. "No... I am sorry."

"Do Not Move. Understand?"

"Yes, Sir." He would make a Marine jealous with his prompt answer.

I go to the dresser, and find the bottle I saw before. Teyla has given me a bottle like this, some sort of auspicious oil to use for praying or some other occasion. I don't remember the details, but I know that my cock has enjoyed the oil quite often. I return to the bed, and nudge his knees apart before settling between his spread legs.

I uncap the bottle, and let the oil drip over his erection. Tiny droplets shine on the hard flesh. I wrap my fist around it, spreading the oil over the throbbing shaft. I pay extra attention to the head, rubbing my thumb over the ridge. I pour more oil over the slit, and squeeze his cock until I see the oil slide inside it.

My eyes dart between his red cock and his face. Even with the leather binding, it must take great effort to forestall his orgasm, and the strain is clearly painted on his face; his jaw is so tight that I think he'll snap. His fists are closed tight around the sheets. Even with all his control, he can't stop the low growl that comes from deep in his chest.

"Don't come until I tell you," I add unnecessarily, and a bit cruelly, but how can I resist? How can I deny myself the shudder that goes through him or the flash of pain, desire, and lust that crosses his face?

"Yes... Sir." His voice falters as his breath hitches.

I look at his cock again. God, it's so big, and hard, and red. I squeeze my legs in sympathy, but that's the only kindness he'll get from me. However, I do understand physical limits. It's time to change my tactics.

"Bend your legs, and spread them more." I wait for him to comply, giving him plenty of time because of his injured leg. Then he's lying there, completely open for me, exposed in the most intimate way. Good thing I've just come or I'd cream my pants at the sight. But I'm not content with watching. I push his balls up while I let the oil trickle down over his hole. When my fingers touch him, he presses back. I don't know if it's a natural reaction or if he's still testing me, but I don't forgive him a second time. I squeeze his balls and pull them away from his body. "I thought I made myself clear. You don't move unless I tell you."

His pleadings and apologies blend together in a powerful elixir, and I know just how damned I am, because there is no way I can give this up. I wait a little longer, listening to the 'please' and 'I am sorry' and the occasional 'Sir' thrown in, before I press two fingers deep inside him.

He clenches around me. A second, two, then a deep breath, and he relaxes again, his breathing returning to normal again.

"Good boy," I tell him with a smile. The smile I get in return is unexpected. He looks like Christmas, Easter and the Tooth Fairy came all at once, and this from a man who has never smiled in my presence. I think his smile is as addictive as the noises he makes.

"Breathe for me, Ronan." I run my free hand over the back of his thigh, while I move my fingers, trying to see how similar our anatomy is, curving them, and...

His hips buck up and he freezes when he realizes what he's done. "I am sorry... oh please... I am sorry..."

"Shh, it's okay, just relax." I keep caressing his thigh, until he settles back down. Then my fingers move again. I find the little gland easily. I brush against it, first gently, then pressing my nails against it. He's swearing in another language, or at least I assume he's swearing, I hear my name and a few 'Sirs' once in a while. They get him no mercy.

Then, I open the leather collar, releasing his cock. It'll be harder for him to stop from coming, but I never said I was going to make things easy. I continue to move my fingers over his prostate.

"I am close... Sir... oh please... I need..." His eyes are shut tightly, his entire body is tense, and I know that he's on the brink, waiting beyond reason for a word from me.

"Come!"

His ass clenches around my fingers, he stills for a moment, before he lets out a sob as strings of come shoot from his untouched cock, streaking his chest.

I slide my fingers out, and watch him for a moment. He seems so out of it at the moment, and he looks younger, less troubled.

I scoop the come off of his chest with two fingers and bring them up to his lips. He laps at them with a smile on his face. He's literally purring. I feel an ache that has nothing to do with sex. I don't only want his submission; I want to be the one to give him this, these few moments of peace. I want to be the one to protect him from himself and his past. I'm so fucked!

I push the thought aside, and lean forward and I kiss him. I feel his hands tentatively reach for me. I continue kissing him, tasting his come from his own mouth. The kiss slows down, until I draw back. "Good?"

He gives me a half smile. "You have done this before." He doesn't out-and-out tell me I lied, but the meaning is the same.

"I told you the truth." I shrug with a grin. "I'm a fast learner."

"You have never? By the ancestors..."

"Yeah, something like that," I say smugly, but it's short lived. I can't stay here, we can't cuddle and be a couple, and all sorts of romantic notions that sex brings too often. "We can't tell anyone."

"I know. I am not stupid."

"I never thought you were. I wouldn't have asked you to join my team if I did, which brings up another problem. This can't affect what we do out there."

He grins. "You mean I have to obey you on missions... like I have to obey you here."

I snort. "It's not exactly the same thing. "Anyway... I should go."

His hands leave me, and I feel cold all of a sudden.

"You should change your uniform; it smells of me," he tells me proudly.

"I'm not stupid either." I take his hand and kiss his fingers before getting up. "I'll see you later."

He nods. "Sheppard," he calls out when I reach the door. "I am ... I will be here if you so wish."

God, I'm going to burn in hell for all eternity, because I know I will come back, again, and again. Aloud I only say, 'I know,' before I leave the room.


End file.
